I hope we get a scene of Alicent with Aegon's body. If her son is damned to die, if she is damned to spiral into insanity, if she is to lose her life too the grief, let me see her with his body.
let her hold her baby in her arms one more time. let her wipe the blood that poured from his mouth and nose as he died. let her run her fingers over the viscous burns that adorn his skin. let her fix his hair. let her bathe him with a cloth as she had when he was a babe. let her kiss his cheek, his forehead, his hair, his hands. let her lay her head against him, hugging him like she had failed to do for years.
he was her firstborn and yet, her heart was still beating and his was not, she was not yet cold in her grave, no, no her son was cold, her flesh was warm, too warm. he was her baby, her son, the boy she tried so hard to protect, who had loved even when it hurt, who she had stood in front of a dragon for. she loved him, the very bones of him, and now he was dead.
let her lose her mind right there, in that room, still clinging to her body, one that's too cold, too still, too quiet. let her scream out to the gods, damning them, cursing them for taking her eldest son, amongst everything else in her life.
I want her to drive away anyone who tries to take him from her, forcing the silent sisters or whoever would be left to deal with his body at that point. let her curse and spit and claw at anyone who comes too close.
she would stay there for hours, reflecting on her memories of him. maybe she talks to him or hums a lullaby until she finally loses her battle with what remains of her consciousness and sanity, falling still against the table.
she dreams of Aegon, she dreams of the life she wish she could have provided, the life she had tried so hard to give him. a life where he was safe, a life where she had been a better mother, a life where she didn't need to live in and impose fear up on her children. maybe if she had tried hard enough he would still be alive, she'll think as she floats in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness.
she'll wake in plain chambers she only partly recognizes, she'll learn of her sons lackluster and sparsly accompanied burning, she'll learn her son was gone and she was alone. there won't be much of her left to care. she just continues dreaming, dreaming of her dead children and spiraling to madness until her broken heart finally gives out.
[my previous post inspired this, cause all I can think about now is Alicent mourning her son and its gonna put me in an early grave]
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perhaps the most tragic line in the entirety of the x-files is 14-year-old samantha writing in her journal that she just wishes she could see her brother's face...samantha is understood and characterized and spoken about fairly strictly as Mulder's Sister, but it's just as true that mulder is Samantha's Brother. he may spend his entire life hearing her scream for him, but she's forever the one screaming. husband and child can be replaced, who can grow me a new brother, etc etc. anyway.
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“Suru on eläin, jota ei voi koskaan kesyttää kokonaan.”
...
“Ilves nostaa päätään ja tuijottaa minua. Se räpyttää silmiään kerran, toisen. Niissä hehkuu Maan auringon kadotettu valo, joka siilautuu vihreiden lehtien läpi. Sen sisuksista nousee matala, vaimea kehräys. Se näykkäisee sylissäni lepäävän käteni syrjää kevyesti, lempeästi, nuolaisee sitten peukaloani.”
— Emmi Itäranta. Kuunpäivän kirjeet
****
“Grief is an animal that can never be wholly tamed.”
...
“The lynx raises its head and stares at me. It blinks once, twice. In its eyes glows the lost light of Earth’s sun, filtered through green foliage. From its depths rises a low, faint purr. With its teeth it nips the back of my hand resting on my lap, lightly, gently, and then licks my thumb.”
— Emmi Itäranta. The Moonday Letters. Quote tranlated by me (unofficial)
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Something that gets to me about Farscape is that John Crichton was raised on science fiction, and he falls into a world where his only frame of reference is stories. Time and time again, he falls into stories he's familiar with--and it's a coin flip whether he gets to be the hero. Yes, he's OUR protagonist, but he's not always THE protagonist.
He falls into a soul-wrenching conflict with his mortal enemy that, story wise, seems like it SHOULD move his enemy to forgiveness. It doesn't. He gains some insight, but not the cathartic release a story would give. He falls back into time and, by treating the situation like a time-travel story, he causes deaths he'll never forgive himself for.
Everyone else on the ship is, for the most part, in a similar boat. The narratives they have to work with are frequently thwarted and turned against them, and it works so well. Not always satisfying in the ways that we come to expect, no, but compelling nonetheless.
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Is it not completely devastating that the track that plays in the Working Class Woman's room, and in the seaside shack belonging to the Washerwoman is titled "Live With Me"?
Martinaise as a whole is obviously pockmarked by grief and loss of many kinds, but I think these are two locations that, more than anywhere else, are scarred by the absence of loved ones and family specifically. These were places of familial intimacy, but you will never see the version of that place filled with joy and laughter, where the dream of living with people you love is still alive. Only the hollow corpse of it, when you tell Billie that her husband is dead. When you're getting ready to end another exhausting day, and you lay down in that impersonal room where the washerwoman's family once lived, but has lain abandoned for decades.
You, Harry, are physically there, but you can never be to these people what their family was to them. They are not alone, and yet they are, in the deepest sense of that word. And they can never be to you what your own family was to you, either.
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top five operators you wouldn’t trust not to steal your kidneys
w, because im still shocked i can recruit her? she'd do that
my ex-wife, but she'd put them back in cause it was kidney inspection day
silverash but he'd fucking. i dunno. preserve it and say "my darling little kidney bean" in some awful wordplay
any of the abyssals but shout out to skadi because she'd probably fool me into thinking its for weird ritual stuff and she just chucks it into the sea
surtr. she'd just crush the kidney and tell me im fine with just one
honorable mention to gravel, except she wouldnt steal my kidney; she'd steal my heart.
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